The World of Writerly Me!
Jul. 10th, 2007 02:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cathschaffstumpFirst of all, word count.
Bryon has read and given chapter 3 the content thumbs up. Chapter 4 is well underway. I hope to be done with it by the end of the week.
***
Here's a piece of it. It is another Errol piece. Next time, I will try to give you a Stephan piece.
Errol read the sign. The Crystal Vortex. He’d been in this part of London before, but only in the company of his family. Most of these shops were full of fake magic, but it was also the neighborhood where pieces of real magic could be found, sometimes under the counter, sometimes in specialty shops. This particular shop was run by Madam Lavinia, known to most as a charlatan, but known to magicians as a dabbler in dark magic.
“Isis, there are some things you can’t get in England, regardless of how hard you try,” Errol said. Isis meowed in return. “Quite right,” said Errol. “I’m at loose ends, you know. Esme’s trial in is two months. We have to be prepared.” Errol entered the shop. A woman sat leisurely behind the counter. “Excuse me,” he said approaching her.
The woman smiled at him breezily. She moved bangles up her arm and twirled a curl in her fingers. “I’m picking up very interesting vibrations from you, young man,” Madam Lavinia said. “And your cat.”
Small wonder, Errol thought. “I’m looking for some very special items,” said Errol. “Things that aren’t usually available. Things that might not normally be acceptable.”
The woman closed her eyes. “You aren’t a tourist, are you? So young to feel so dark! We do specialize in hard to obtain items.”
“Do you have dead man’s hair?”
“We do.” Her smile broadened. No doubt, Errol thought, she was tallying up how much she would sell.
“Do you have infant skin?”
“Freshly taken.”
“Well, I guess I’m in the right kind of place. I don’t need either of those, although that you have them makes it more likely that you’ll have what I need. Do you have the feathers of a fallen angel?”
The woman looked at Errol sideways. “Repeat that,” she said slowly.
“The feathers of a fallen angel. Used to bind—.”
She abruptly turned and walked into her office, closing the door, and locking it. Errol sighed. He rapped his fist on the door. “Used to bind enemies in darkness?”
“Go away!” the woman called out from inside. “We don’t serve your kind here!”
No noise came from inside the office. Errol sighed. “You don’t have the ingredient then?”
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” the woman yelled out. “Well, young man, you listen, and you listen well! We don’t do that kind of magic here! There’s a reason that kind of magic was done away with, years and years ago. I thought there was something funny about that cat! You just move yourself along!”
“Do you know anyone who has angel feathers then?”
“No one on this plane of existence! Now, off with you!”
Errol straightened, and Isis readjusted herself. “I didn’t think this would be easy,” he said to his cat. “To be considered disrespectable by dark magicians, however, is rather ironic. Well, we’ll have to try again.” He left the shop.
***
Went to Convergence this weekend and in addition to playing and having a good time with friends, also worked on writer edumatation. Learned that YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romance are hot, and learned a lot about who's doing what kinds of writing. Know your area, oh writer. Approach it cleverly. Know who's doing what, and how you compare, not superficially, to your peers, rather than your idols.
Onward. A few things left to do today.
Catherine
| |
27,135 / 80,000 (33.9%) |
Bryon has read and given chapter 3 the content thumbs up. Chapter 4 is well underway. I hope to be done with it by the end of the week.
***
Here's a piece of it. It is another Errol piece. Next time, I will try to give you a Stephan piece.
Errol read the sign. The Crystal Vortex. He’d been in this part of London before, but only in the company of his family. Most of these shops were full of fake magic, but it was also the neighborhood where pieces of real magic could be found, sometimes under the counter, sometimes in specialty shops. This particular shop was run by Madam Lavinia, known to most as a charlatan, but known to magicians as a dabbler in dark magic.
“Isis, there are some things you can’t get in England, regardless of how hard you try,” Errol said. Isis meowed in return. “Quite right,” said Errol. “I’m at loose ends, you know. Esme’s trial in is two months. We have to be prepared.” Errol entered the shop. A woman sat leisurely behind the counter. “Excuse me,” he said approaching her.
The woman smiled at him breezily. She moved bangles up her arm and twirled a curl in her fingers. “I’m picking up very interesting vibrations from you, young man,” Madam Lavinia said. “And your cat.”
Small wonder, Errol thought. “I’m looking for some very special items,” said Errol. “Things that aren’t usually available. Things that might not normally be acceptable.”
The woman closed her eyes. “You aren’t a tourist, are you? So young to feel so dark! We do specialize in hard to obtain items.”
“Do you have dead man’s hair?”
“We do.” Her smile broadened. No doubt, Errol thought, she was tallying up how much she would sell.
“Do you have infant skin?”
“Freshly taken.”
“Well, I guess I’m in the right kind of place. I don’t need either of those, although that you have them makes it more likely that you’ll have what I need. Do you have the feathers of a fallen angel?”
The woman looked at Errol sideways. “Repeat that,” she said slowly.
“The feathers of a fallen angel. Used to bind—.”
She abruptly turned and walked into her office, closing the door, and locking it. Errol sighed. He rapped his fist on the door. “Used to bind enemies in darkness?”
“Go away!” the woman called out from inside. “We don’t serve your kind here!”
No noise came from inside the office. Errol sighed. “You don’t have the ingredient then?”
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” the woman yelled out. “Well, young man, you listen, and you listen well! We don’t do that kind of magic here! There’s a reason that kind of magic was done away with, years and years ago. I thought there was something funny about that cat! You just move yourself along!”
“Do you know anyone who has angel feathers then?”
“No one on this plane of existence! Now, off with you!”
Errol straightened, and Isis readjusted herself. “I didn’t think this would be easy,” he said to his cat. “To be considered disrespectable by dark magicians, however, is rather ironic. Well, we’ll have to try again.” He left the shop.
***
Went to Convergence this weekend and in addition to playing and having a good time with friends, also worked on writer edumatation. Learned that YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romance are hot, and learned a lot about who's doing what kinds of writing. Know your area, oh writer. Approach it cleverly. Know who's doing what, and how you compare, not superficially, to your peers, rather than your idols.
Onward. A few things left to do today.
Catherine